Not Alone
by Sandylee007
Summary: TWO YEARS AFTER 'THE LAST STAND'. For a very long time now human Erik has been sitting in the park all alone. One day he finally gets company. ONESHOT


A/N: This idea slammed into my head after I got the chance to watch a particular clip and refused to leave since. (grins sheepishly)

DISCLAIMER: Yeah, as if…! Let's just say that if I DID own anything I'd live in a MUCH bigger apartment right now. I'm just playing around.

TAKES PLACE: Two years after 'The Last Stand'.

Awkay… (gulps) I've really gotta get started before I change my mind. I truly hope that you'll enjoy this!

* * *

**_Not Alone_**

* * *

Since Erik, much against his will, became nothing but a bitter old man (_human_) he developed a routine. Every afternoon he would go to a park, sit by a chess set and wait. Wait for what, he didn't have the slightest clue. (For death. For a miracle. Heaven knows that he'd had far too much time to wonder.) He came, no matter what kind of a weather it was, and sat absolutely still, staring at the chessboard. The pieces didn't move. No one approached him.

That was all he seemed to do, these days. Eat. Sleep. Wash up. Sit still and wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait for _nothing_.

Erik had never, ever felt so lonely before. And the feeling was beginning to kill him, little by little. It carved him hollow until there was nothing left of the person he once was. He was all alone in a world that was finally beginning to accept the kind he used to be, once upon a time.

All alone, until one morning someone did come.

Erik sits still as a statue, his eyes never once leaving the white king, until he hears a voice. "Would you mind terribly if I join you? It's been a while since I've last had the chance to play."

Surprise sending a surprisingly pleasant chill through him Erik looks up to meet a pair of bizarre, gentle eyes. And for some reason he trusts although all his life has taught him not to. (After his mother there's only ever been one person who's been worthy of his trust. Perhaps it's only befitting, in some painfully bitter way, that his mistakes guided the paths to their deaths.) "I suppose I wouldn't", he admits, glances around. There's no threat. Just that quite harmless looking old man with a cane.

The other sighs almost gratefully and sits down, the cane chiming harshly against the chair's metal. "Splendid. It'd be a shame if we'd both spend such a beautiful day alone." (It's rather cold, actually, and the cloudy sky promises rain, but for some reason Erik doesn't have the heart to comment.) The stranger focuses on the chessboard. "So… Which side would you like to play?"

Erik looks down as well and can't quite comprehend the emotions stirring inside him. It's been such a long time… "Black", he replies automatically.

If the other notices his slip of concentration the man is too modest to make any remarks. Erik feels eyes on him for a moment and can't explain the wave of familiarity. "Very well."

They start the came in nearly absolute silence, both making their moves deep in thought. Surprisingly it's Erik who speaks first. "So… You don't know me?" The man should. Over the past years (decades, really) he's been on the covers of newspapers quite often and certainly not in the most favorable light. Is it really possible that someone doesn't know Magneto?

The stranger blinks twice and looks at him, then smiles good naturedly. "I'm afraid that I don't. All I know is that you looked like someone who could use company, even if it's only for a few moments." The man nods down. "Your move." His opponent doesn't ask for a name. Erik chooses to repay the courtesy.

Another silence falls, smooth and comfortable as a silk sheet. This time it's the stranger's turn to speak first. "I used to play a lot, you know. When I was younger." There's the slightest brush of sadness in those words. Longing. "Somehow it hasn't felt the same since."

Erik swallows thickly. It doesn't erase the blockage. Good lord, how his heart aches… "I know what you mean", he admits, making his own move.

The stranger looks up at him curiously, not even looking down while making a new move. "You do?" While Erik attempts to focus on his own move the man leans closer, chin resting on wrinkled hands. "Who did you play with, then?"

Erik has no idea of why he answers the question. Surely his past is none of the stranger's business. But his lips move before he can stop them. "My brother", he manages around a stab of pain. The tears are much closer than he'd care to admit. "He… passed away a couple of years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Erik fully expects elaborating questions. (The stranger hasn't exactly shone when it comes to respecting his privacy.) His companion makes none, instead glances towards the chessboard with eyes that seem to linger somewhere very far away. "I had a brother, too. But I'm afraid that he chose a path in life where I couldn't follow him. We hurt each othe quite a bit along the way." Slowly, slowly a tiny smile appears. "I haven't given up on hope yet, though. I've seen the man he could be, the better man that a part of him wants to be." Erik can't resist a brief chuckle as those words echo inside his head. The stranger glances up at him. "Did I say something funny?"

Erik shakes his head, looking towards the chessboard to notice that it was his move. It's bittersweet, the flood spinning in the pit of his stomach. "No. That was just… something Charles could've said." Not for the first time he wishes, secretly inside his head…

Charles. The eternal optimist. If only the professor would've had the chance to see the world he always dreamt of slowly coming to life.

The stranger sighs, ripping him out of those thoughts. "We're a couple of old fools, aren't we? Sitting at a chess set and wondering what could've been. But then again, what's a better way for an old, sentimental fool to spend some time." The man's eyes flicker towards his for a fleeting second, wistfully. "It'd be wonderful to live in a world with no regrets, wouldn't it?"

Erik nods. And means it, from the bottom of his heart. "Yes. It would." It'd be wonderful to live in a world where he isn't always too damn late to learn, to understand.

"Now that's the real beauty of it. It's never too late." The other man gets up abruptly and against all reason Erik wonders if he's said something offensive. He hasn't. There's a chillingly familiar smile on those lips before the stranger turns around. "I'm afraid that I have to go now. These old bones don't take this chill as well as they used to. Perhaps we can play again some other day?" With that the man begins to walk away. "Just remember one thing, Erik." The voice is barely audible. Seems to echo inside his head, really. "You're not alone."

Erik's eyes widen and he feels like he's falling, down, down, down. For ages all he manages to do is stare, his old, desperate mind clinging on foolish 'what ifs' and 'maybes'.

Surely it was just a coincidence, nothing more, he convinces himself.

Then, very slowly, his eyes fall on the chessboard.

A checkmate greets him.

(The rain never comes.)

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**_End._**

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A/N: Oh boy… Wouldn't it be fantastic is this actually happened? (sighs) I got the inspiration to write this once I got my hand on the 'after the credits' scene of 'The Last Stand'. I'd strongly suggest you either watch it or 'YouTube' –it. It blew my mind! (Pfft, like it wasn't blown enough before…)

Soooo… (gulps nervously) Was that any good at all, or should I just delete this and pretend that this never, ever existed? PLEASE, leave a review and let me know! It'd seriously make my rainy day. (glances hopefully)

In any case, thank yous so much for reading! Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing you around later.

Take care!


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